


Stocking Filler

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-05
Updated: 2007-01-05
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8092186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Reed's slip of the tongue wins Tucker a mouthful.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: A bit of festive, first-time fluff.  
No spoilers.  
No beta, because of time constraints.  


* * *

'Mind if we join you, Malcolm?'

It was clearly a rhetorical question, as Tucker put his plate and glass down and pulled out a chair without waiting for a reply. Mayweather and Sato did at least have the grace to wait long enough for him to look up and nod his acceptance of the fait accompli. 

Reed wouldn't normally object to Tucker's presence. In fact, more often than he liked to admit he went out of his way to give the man the opportunity to join him for meals, and the other two were usually good company too. But today he was busy. Today the empty mess hall was his refuge from the crowd of people in the armoury.

Reed had taken advantage of the fact that they were travelling through a particularly quiet area of space - and the captain's seasonally induced good humour - to persuade Archer to allow a major overhaul of *Enterprise's* phase cannons. For the most part the work had gone smoothly, but they'd hit a snag in the firing sequence for the port cannon, so Reed, killing two birds with one stone, had taken the opportunity to grab a bite to eat while rewriting the circuit diagrams in the late-evening peace and quiet of the mess hall.

Reed retrieved the padd that Tucker had pushed to one side, and asked, 'What brings you here at this time?' Not a late dinner he realised, taking in Tucker's pie and Sato's chocolate cake. Mayweather's cheeseburger and salad he discounted; they could easily just be a mid-evening snack for the helmsman.

'Christmas party planning committee,' Tucker said. 'We're it, and this is our inaugural meeting.'

'Really.' Reed looked pointedly at all the empty tables. 'I hope I'm not disturbing you.'

'Nah,' Tucker grinned. 'We can bounce ideas off of you.'

Reed suppressed a small sigh and retrieved another padd that seemed to be in Tucker's way, swapping it for the plate holding the remains of his sandwich. He took a mouthful of his coffee before placing the mug where he was reasonably sure the engineer wouldn't feel compelled to move it, and buried himself in his work again.

Reed tuned out the group's conversation and concentrated on his calculations. He was peripherally aware of the occasional comment or question aimed at him and grunted or nodded in what he hoped was an appropriate manner without really paying attention to what was being said. On the odd occasion a proper answer was called for he managed to say something that satisfied: 'Oh, a tree, yes.' 'Red baubles, I think.' 'Bells would be lovely.' But he definitely wasn't concentrating on what was being said, either by the others or by himself.

Sato's voice penetrated, something about stockings, and once again Reed replied without thinking: 'My stocking wearing days are over, I'm afraid.'

He gradually became aware of the silence and looked up, his concentration broken.

'What?' he asked, puzzled.

Sato looked surprised; Mayweather was staring at him slack-jawed--not a pretty sight with a mouthful of burger. Tucker was staring at him with an unidentifiable expression that Reed found faintly alarming.

'You want to run that by us again?' Tucker suggested.

'Run what?' Reed shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to admit to not having been listening, although he rather thought his cover had been blown anyway. 'What did I say?'

'Something about your stocking wearing days being over?' 

The glint in Tucker's eyes was definitely disturbing, sort of intrigued and slightly hungry. It was that as much as the realisation of his unguarded comment that caused Reed to blush.

'Sorry,' he said. 'I don't know why I said that. My mind wasn't really on what I was saying.' He waved a hand over his collection of padds and said, 'Sorry,' again.

'Strange thing for you to come up with unthinking,' Tucker said, watching Reed out of the corner of his eye as he manoeuvred another piece of pie onto his spoon. 'Interesting image though,' he added with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Reed could feel the heat in his face a he blushed even more fiercely.

'Er, yes, well. Like I said, I wasn't really thinking. I should get back to the armoury, leave you to your meeting.' He stood, gathering up his padds, and started for the door. 'Look,' he said, turning back, 'I'd be obliged if you didn't spread any rumours about me wearing stockings. I don't, never have done. It was just a slip of the tongue. Okay?'

'Whatever you say, Malcolm.' Tucker turned his attention back to the last of his pie, leaving a flustered Reed to wonder if he was mistaken in thinking the engineer had been checking out his legs.

'We won't say anything,' Sato assured him, somewhat more convincingly, and Mayweather nodded, even if he did look a little disappointed.

 

Reed was pretty confident that the two ensigns wouldn't spread any rumours about him: he was their superior officer, after all. Commander Tucker however was another matter entirely.

Tucker, after whom Reed had been mooning like a crushing teenager for the past six months. Tucker, who was certainly as straight as a die. Tucker, who had been more than willing to accommodate a succession of female aliens. Tucker, who--and this was possibly the most disturbing--had definitely seemed intrigued by the idea of Reed in stockings.

 

Two days passed during which nothing untoward happened. Reed was happy to see that he'd been right about Sato and Mayweather. It was true that Mayweather had been tempted to try and raise the matter with him over breakfast the first day, but one of Reed's patented 'don't mess with me' glares had put paid to that. Tucker hadn't mentioned the conversation at all, which, perversely, made Reed uneasy. There was nothing he could do to relieve his unease: he could hardly ask Tucker why he hadn't brought up a subject which Reed had specifically asked him to drop. Nevertheless, Tucker's unusual respect for his wishes preyed on his mind. 

So when Reed, busy upgrading power feeds to the aft phase cannon, heard shuffling footsteps approaching his position, he was almost relieved to see the stooped figure of the commander making his way towards him through the cramped Jeffrey's tube. The job was intricate, but routine--nothing to require the attention of the chief engineer--so Reed was reasonably sure that Tucker was there to follow up on his slip. Finally. Not that Reed had any intention of making things easy for him.

'Commander,' he said. 'What can I do for you?'

'Boot's on the other foot, Lieutenant. Came to see if I could give you a hand.'

'There's hardly room for one person to work in here,' Reed pointed out, 'let alone two.'

'You saying you don't want my company?' Tucker asked with a smile, hunkering down with his back to the bulkhead.

'No. Just wondering what it is that's really brought you here.' Reed's attention was back on his work, but amusement was clear in his voice when he continued: 'Engineering must be really quiet for you to prefer to squash yourself down here.'

Tucker laughed. 'Oh I don't know, being squashed can be fun.'

Reed glanced at the engineer, looking away quickly when he saw how intently he was being watched.

Reed worked, Tucker sitting watching him. The silence stretched, comfortably, for a few minutes before Tucker eventually broke it.

'So, about what you said the other day.'

Reed fumbled the connector he was replacing, but said nothing.

'You going to tell me what that was all about?' Tucker pressed.

'I wasn't planning to. Pass me that wrench, will you?'

Tucker picked up the tool, holding it just out of Reed's grasp, pulling back as the lieutenant leaned to get it. Reed gave Tucker a look.

'Trip.'

'Malcolm,' the engineer countered.

Reed sighed, turning to sit on the floor next to Tucker, not close enough that they might touch accidentally. 

'It was a slip of the tongue, Trip. I wasn't concentrating. It didn't mean anything.'

'Bullshit. Course it meant something. I'd just like to know what.'

'Why?'

'I...' 

Reed was surprised when Tucker looked away, seemingly embarrassed. 

'I like you, Mal. You know...like, and when you said that... I know you didn't mean to say it, but it was the first hint that maybe you aren't as straight...straight-laced as you seem, and I was interested. That's all.'

'Stop it!'

'I'm sorry,' Tucker said with a sigh. 'I didn't mean to freak you out.' 

'You're not. At least you wouldn't be if I thought you meant it. But we all know how fond you are of female company. I don't know why you're pretending otherwise, but it isn't funny.'

'I'm not pretending. I'm...' Tucker scrubbed a hand across his face and took a deep breath before continuing. 'People aren't phase canons, Malcolm. They don't come with a wiring diagram, right or wrong, black or white. Sometimes there are variations. I do like women, but I like guys too. Ask the captain if you don't believe me.'

Reed was momentarily distracted by an image of himself questioning Archer on the sexuality of his chief engineer. As he realised Tucker was scrambling to his feet, preparing to leave, he called: 'Trip, wait,' and reached up to grasp the man's arm. 'Sit down again. Please. I didn't mean... I'm sorry.'

Tucker gave Reed a long look before finally sinking down besides him again. 

'It's all right,' he said. I shouldn't have sprung it on you like that. It's just when you said that in the mess the other day I thought maybe... Don't worry, just forget it.'

'The Rocky Horror Show--you know it?'

Tucker blinked at the seeming non sequitur. 'Sure. I've seen the film a couple of times--wouldn't have pegged you as a fan though.'

'Not the film,' Reed said. 'I've never seen the film. The live shows.' He saw Tucker's eyes widen, but rushed on before the man could speak. 'Maddy wanted to go, my sister that is, but she was only fourteen or fifteen and Mum wouldn't let her go alone, so I got drafted--very much against my will. I refused to dress up, much to Maddy's disgust. She went the whole hog needless to say--went as Magenta, even dyed her hair. You want to see freaked out, you should have seen Mum the next morning.'

Tucker gave a snort of laughter, but said nothing.

'Anyway, I found I enjoyed it, in spite of myself. Have you ever been to a live show?' He looked across at Tucker, who shook his head. 'The atmosphere's fantastic, wild, free...anonymous. It's more than the costumes, the routines--no one is what they seem. Male, female, straight...gay. You can just lose yourself, be yourself, and no one will know.'

'Are you saying you're gay?' Tucker sounded incredulous.

Reed shrugged. 'I wasn't sure, still not really. I've had girlfriends, as you know. Never got really close to any of them, as you also know.' He tossed Tucker a brief grim smile, and the engineer shivered involuntarily, Reed's words recalling their harrowing experience in a freezing shuttlepod. 'Had a few relationships with men too. I thought they seemed...better, more connection, you know, but I was never sure. And none of them worked out in the end, so I suppose I still don't know.'

They sat, staring ahead, each man lost in his own thoughts, then Tucker shuffled himself around a little and said: 'Maybe this will help you make up your mind.'

Reed turned his head in the other man's direction, lips parted to speak, but whatever he had been about to say was silenced as Tucker's mouth covered his in a gentle, almost tentative kiss. Reed's lips parted further and with a muffled moan Tucker slid his tongue between them. One of Reed's arms slipped around Tucker's waist, while his other hand sifted through the short hair at the nape of the engineer's neck. Reed shifted awkwardly in the cramped space, lifting his arm to allow his hand more freedom for its explorations. His sleeve brushed against the bulkhead, catching the wiring on which he'd been working.

'Ow! Shit!' Reed leaped sideways, as much as he could in the confined space, as the charge from the polarised EPS circuit shot along his arm.

'Argh, watch out!' Tucker protested, as Reed's elbow made painful contact with his jaw.

'Sorry,' Reed gasped. 'Fuck, that hurt.'

'You're telling me!'

'Sorry,' Reed said again. 'I think maybe a Jeffrey's tube isn't the right place for this.'

Before either of them could say anything else Reed had to field calls from both the armoury and the bridge wondering what the heck he was playing at shorting out a section of the canon's EPS grid, although neither Ensign Tanner nor Sub-commander T'Pol used exactly those words.

'I should let you get on with your work,' Tucker said as Reed closed his communicator and slipped it back into his sleeve pocket.

'Yes,' he agreed. 'Especially since I seem to have just made more of it.'

Tucker grinned. 'I would offer to stay and help...' 

'But you hear engineering calling,' Reed finished for him, returning his grin.

As Tucker picked himself up and prepared to leave Reed's grin faded and he asked uncertainly: 'We will be able to try again later, somewhere more suitable?'

'You sure you want to? I mean, don't think you have to just because I...' 

Tucker stopped speaking as Reed pressed two fingers against his mouth.

'Stop babbling, Trip,' Reed instructed. 'I want to, more than you know.' At Tucker's unspoken question he promised, 'I'll explain later. Now get out of here and let me sort out the damage I've caused.'

 

The early hours of the following morning Reed blinked his eyes open, roused by the hand stroking his thigh. He stretched and yawned before turning a sleepy smile on the man sharing the narrow bunk. 'If I'd known you were so insatiable, Mr Tucker, I'd never have agreed to this relationship.'

'You're no slouch in that department yourself, Mr Reed. Anyhow, I was just admiring your legs. You've got real nice legs, you know.' Tucker snuggled a little lower in the bed. 'Nice thighs.' He stroked down Reed's thigh, moving further down the bed. 'Nice calves.' His hand traced the contours of Reed's calf. 'A nicely turned ankle. Mmm, real nice foot.' He looked up Reed's leg at the man's face, and his mouth curved in a wicked smile. 'I bet they'd look even nicer in stockings.' As Reed rolled his eyes in mock-exasperation, Tucker continued: 'Black, I think. Maybe patterned, and possibly a seam.'

'Trip, stop talking rubbish and do something useful with your mouth,' Reed ordered. 'There are other parts of my body in more urgent need of your attention than my legs.' 

Tucker slid up Reed's body, and Reed turned fully onto his back, stretching and offering himself. Tucker's hand retraced its path up Reed's thigh, and then moved between the parted legs to cup his balls. Tucker took his lover's cock in his mouth, and Reed arched up to meet him.

'Silk, Trip,' Reed gasped. 'I only wear silk, and very definitely seams.'

 

\--end--


End file.
